


Getting High

by smoothmovebro



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Massage, Recreational Drug Use, getting stoned in the basement, reading lines with quote unquote distractions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 11:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12605356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothmovebro/pseuds/smoothmovebro
Summary: Jeremy and Michael spend an afternoon getting stoned in Michael's basement. Michael helps out Jeremy with his lines in the play. Things get... intimate.





	Getting High

**Author's Note:**

> written for nanowrimo 2017

“When you invited me to come over, this is not what I expected.”

Jeremy and Michael are in Michael’s basement. It’s a small, stuffy place, with enough room for a couple of beanbags and a desk lamp on the floor. They huddle over the desk lamp. Jeremy is reading his script - a sad stack of sloppy bound papers - while Michael has a small setup of a grinder and skins for his weed joints. They hunch over in relative quiet as they do their own thing, sometimes breaking the silence to chat.

“Well, I _did_ say I wanted to get stoned in my basement, so…” Michael let himself trail off. Never quite finishing sentences is a common occurrence in their 12 years of friendship. Having your thoughts being fully comprehended by another without actually finishing said thought is a novelty that never wears off. It is a comfort achieved with time, trust, and another level of intimacy not usually associated with friendship.

Speaking of intimacy…

“God, my legs are killing me,” Jeremy mutters. He shifts his crossed legs trying to ease the ache in them after sitting for so long. This only earned a deep groan that should not have made Michael blush. Thank God for shitty lighting.

Michael finishes making a joint and sets it aside. He started with none and in an hour, has made five. That should do for quite some time, since he doesn’t feel like doing more than he has to. He picks up the first joint he made and lights it, letting the pale, flimsy skin burn for a few seconds before inhaling.

Upon exhaling, Michael proposes an offer that Jeremy (secretly) can’t refuse. “How about I massage them for you?”

The smoke curling from Michael’s mouth makes him look mysterious like those guys from _The Godfather_ , Jeremy thinks. In this small and crowded room, it’s easy to get high. Sharing a joint over an afternoon is enough to send them into giggles and bouts of existentialism.

This time, on this afternoon, things will change.

“Yeah, why not?” Jeremy replies. Michael puts away his setup into a neat bundle in the corner of the room. Jeremy pushes the lamp further to the side to make room for his legs as he stretches them. Now, Jeremy is sitting on his beanbag with his feet grazing the edge of Michael’s beanbag. The lamp casts an awkward beam of light on Jeremy’s knees and Michael adjusts the lamp so that it’s pointing in the vague direction of a corner in the ceiling. Both the boys lean back. Jeremy is poring over lines and stage direction. Michael uses one hand to smoke and the other to shift the beanbag so that he can place his hands on Jeremy’s knees.

“Is that the script?” Michael asks. Trying to talk with a joint in your mouth proves to be a difficult task. His words get muffled, stilted, and cut short. He doesn’t want to open his mouth too wide that the joint would fall off and stain Jeremy’s jeans.

Jeremy looks up from the stack of papers. He looks at Michael before realising that he asked a question. “Yeah,” he says belatedly. He goes back to reading before glancing up again at Michael. “Um… how about I take that off you?”

“What?”

“The joint,” Jeremy says, gesturing at Michael’s mouth. “I’ll have some hits while you…” There it is again with the trailing off. Michael knows exactly what he meant and hands over the joint to Jeremy.

Watching Jeremy smoke and read at the same time is a surreal image. As Michael sets to work - kneading Jeremy’s calves and working his way up to his knees - he feels… a new sense of ease he hasn’t felt in other afternoons where the two hang out to get stoned. It’s a familiar yet thrilling sort of ease, where you push further into territory you’re familiar with.

After working on both of his calves, Michael places a hand on Jeremy’s left thigh and gives it a firm squeeze.

“Stage right!” Jeremy yelps as he flinches. Fortunately, the joint is safe in the grasp of his fingers. Jeremy’s leg jerking away from Michael makes the other boy stop and look up at him with concern.

“Was that… Did I hurt you?” Michael withdraws his hands closer to himself. He fumbles with fiddles with the drawstrings on his hoodie, sobering up despite the heavy scent of marijuana in the air.

“No!” Jeremy says. “It’s just… You were a bit higher up than I expected.” He looks away and coughs into the hand holding the joint. “I’ll be fine.” He stretches his legs again and Michael inches forward once more in his beanbag. They go back to their comfortable silence.

“Can you read out your lines to me?” Michael asks. “For practice. You know, so you don’t look like an idiot at the read-through tomorrow.” Jeremy ponders that, then nods.

“You have her father's love, Demetrius; Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.” Jeremy begins reading a lengthy line from Lysander. Michael resumes massaging Jeremy’s legs, working his way further and further up his thigh. The denim may mask it, but Jeremy has supple thighs, Michael finds. At times, Jeremy would mess up a word or completely forget to read since Michael is _there_ and _massaging his fucking thighs_ and-

Michael’s hands are no longer on Jeremy’s thighs. He has stopped caring about that altogether. Now, his hand is on Jeremy’s hip, heavy and insistent. Jeremy puts down his script

“No, keep reading,” Michael says with a tone both of them never knew could come from him. It is heavy, commanding, and dominating. Jeremy gulps. “I wanna see how you deal… _with distractions._ ”

Jeremy blinks with owlish eyes at Michael’s cryptic comment until he feels a warm pressure on the hard-on that he was desperately trying to hide. He groans and, in that moment, finally understands.

“I want you to read the whole play,” Michael says. “Get a feel of what everyone else is like so you know how your character should,” he gestures, “be like.” He snatches the joint out of Jeremy’s hands and takes a couple of hits, savouring each one, before giving it back to Jeremy. Now with the intoxication of the weed clouding the worrywart part of him, Michael looks up at Jeremy with hooded eyes and winks.

Jeremy’s heart stops at the change in Michael’s demeanour. It’s a change he welcomes and fears at the same time. He knows how Michael gets when he’s high: touchier with a hint of amplified recklessness. But this is territory they’ve never breached before and honestly, this thrills him.

He continues reading the play, changing the tone of his voice when another character is speaking. He zips through stage direction by reading them out with a monotone but brisk voice. As he reads, Michael takes his time palming him through his jeans and taking off his belt at a languid pace.

He would flip the hook after a few pages of dialogue. Then he would take off the metal bar holding the belt in place after a few more pages, but he doesn’t slide off the belt. Finally, when Jeremy is nearing the end of an act, Michael slips off the strip of leather and tosses it aside.

He makes no move to unbutton Jeremy’s jeans. Jeremy takes a deep breath, grateful he can still maintain concentration despite the niggling feeling of arousal.

His expectations are flipped when Michael unbuttons and unzips Jeremy’s jeans within the span of two pages of the script. Jeremy gasps at the cool sensation on his crotch. This is immediately replaced, however, with the warmth of Michael’s mouth on the bulge in his underwear. He squeaks mid-line but he finishes the monologue with little to no hitch in his breath as he read.

When Jeremy arrives at the scene where Lysander and Hermia sleep in the woods, Michael pulls down Jeremy’s underwear to take him in his mouth.

Jeremy moans, low but drawn out, relishing the relief of all that built up anticipation. He drops the script and the joint, not caring where either land, and fists his hands in Michael’s hair, encouraging him.

Michael chuckles at the lack of restraint. This then manifests into a delicious hum that goes straight to Jeremy’s cock and the lanky boy shivers at the sensation. Jeremy loosens his grip on Michael’s hair and closes his eyes to relish the warm sensation he feels all over him.

All too soon, he feels a tightening in him. Michael’s pace picks up and he’s licking him in all these different ways that Jeremy can’t possibly process the sensations properly before he-

“Michael!” is the last thing Jeremy yelps before groaning through his orgasm. An embarrassing and pre-mature event, he shudders and he brings a fist to his mouth to mask the sounds of his climax. Michael still has his mouth on Jeremy’s cock, taking every drop of his cum until the other boy pushes at his head to stop.

Michael pulls away with an audible pop. Jeremy could clearly see him swallow the rest of his cum. If he weren’t so spent, he would’ve kissed him right then and there. But he was laying there on the beanbag, spent, and Michael has the courtesy to help Jeremy get decent by pulling his underwear back up and zipping his jeans.

Michael looks to Jeremy’s side and clicks his tongue when he finds the joint on the floor. “At least it was going to be finished soon,” he says as he stows it away in a nearby bin.

All Jeremy could do is nod and pick up his script without saying a word. He clears his throat, formulating his next words. He stutters a couple of time but he manages to follow through.

“Can I do you next?”


End file.
